


Moonlit Eyes

by kloud



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Climbing Class, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Josh Lives, M/M, because swings are cute, cuteness because i can, exorJosh, swing cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kloud/pseuds/kloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the night, they're on a swing set. This scene is set for some basic movie horror. Even with the creepy lighting, Chris can't help but feel a sense of comfort being beside his friend. Not to mention his mind is preoccupied with that <em>thing</em> he has to tell Josh. Yeah... that thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlit Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [danji-doodle](http://danji-doodle.tumblr.com/)'s comics, which all y'all should definitely go look at. Right now.
> 
> Also, I am a big swearer via writing, so it's so hard to tone that down. But I managed to only have one swear word. 
> 
> A key for people:  
> crap = the s word.  
> jerk = um, definitely not jerk, bro. 
> 
> I think that's it. Thank you for all your support!

_Creeaak…_ Light wind kicked up with the force of him going forward, his eyes staring off into the dark, orangish night. Street lamps could be seen through the sparse tree foliage. _Creeak…_ His stomach hovered for a few moments before dropping as gravity pulled his body backwards. He stretched out his legs, leaning back into the motion. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Josh staring forward, lost in his thoughts.

Seriously, who goes swinging at midnight?

Apparently they do. _Creeeaak…_ His body began to fall forward, and he leaned against it to slow down. A sigh passed through his cold lips, and he frowned, waiting for the creaking swing to eventually come to a stop. Despite all Chris’s loud, squeaky antics, Josh remained in his own world, his own mind.

With his feet planted on the ground, Chris turned his head to stare at the dark-haired man beside him. His stare didn’t pull Josh back into reality. A small, sad smile lifted Chris’s lips and he rested his warm cheek against the cool metal of the swing. Getting Josh out of the house was worse than getting Emily into a costume that she would like, rather _die_ than be seen in.

Well. Maybe Josh was easier. Chris sighed and tried to find Josh’s line of sight, but couldn’t pinpoint whatever his friend stared at. If he stared at anything.

Chris’s original plan was to go out earlier, when it was slightly warmer, but his _ever-the-extrovert_ friend kept saying, _“Naw, man. Maybe later.”_

_“Bro, not right now, ‘kay?”_

And his favorite: _“Okay, give me like five minutes.”_ Which turned into an hour.

“You know man, you could just try talking to her.”

Surprise brought light into Josh’s eyes, and he slowly gave Chris a look of confusion. One that only consisted of his eyes and eyebrows, because he was wearing a scarf. A huge ridiculous scarf. Where had Josh gotten that from, anyways? His grandmother’s closet?

“The tree,” a small smile lifted Chris’s lips and his brows waggled suggestively. “You’ve been staring at her _all_ night. I know you’re so into-”

Josh’s eyes crinkled, and he shoved Chris, sending his swing into a side-to-side motion. In the few seconds it took Chris to stop his swing, and to turn completely towards the other, Josh was already spacing out again.

Guilt pinched his insides and he let out a breath, resting his head against the swing’s cold chains. Too soon, probably. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed Josh to go outside, and… would this really help his recovery? Sitting outside in the cold on some creaky old swings? All of this for that _thing_ Chris wanted to say?

Large, questioning eyes flickered back towards Chris.

This might be weird to say, but Josh reminded Chris of a deer, hesitant and alert and ready to bolt at any second. Maybe it was just because those big, dark eyes of his seemed a lot bigger lately.

With a feathery light smile, Chris asked, “So… how’s the baby food?”

Humor filled Josh’s eyes and he murmured something, but any words were lost in the mass of his scarf. Well, if Chris _really_ tried, he could probably make out the words.

But that was no fun. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying, man.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s that old grandma scarf of yours, or something, and you’re-”

Hands grabbed either chain of Chris’s swing and yanked them. Their knees bumped together and the swings creaked in protest. The two now faced another. Josh leaned towards Chris, his eyes dancing, and he shouted, “I _said_ I don’t know how babies put up with that crap!” Laughter bubbled from him.

The sound… Chris hadn’t realized how much he missed it-- _ached_ to hear it again. His own laughter bloomed from his chest and he gave Josh a wide grin. Their closeness didn’t bother him, and it didn’t look like Josh had any intention of letting go of Chris’s swing. These moments… he wished there were more of them.

Their laughter started to dry up, Chris felt his gut squeeze. He didn’t want to let go, just yet.

Too bad he didn’t have any control over that. At least he still had Josh’s attention, and there was still that _thing_ Chris wanted to say. But not yet. Eyes falling to the scarf, Chris said, “You know… you don’t have to wear that.”

All humor left Josh’s eyes and his hold on the chains loosened.

A rock had to have been shoved down Chris’s throat. Or maybe his heart tried to make an escape, because it was _so hard_ to breath. Reaching up, Chris put one hand over Josh’s, and he tried to decipher what was going on in his friend’s brain. Too bad there wasn’t a scanner or something on Josh’s forehead, which read his current thoughts, or his doubts, or how Chris could help him.

_Step one: be supportive. What Josh wants is someone to readily be there. So, be there, man. Are you an idiot or something?_

Yeah. It would probably say something like that. Hesitantly, Chris kept his eyes on the scarf and said, “Does… does it hurt?”

It took a few moments for his friend to understand. _Oh, teeth._ Chris knew because it took a good couple seconds before Josh did anything. He let go. A sense of urgency shot through Chris and he snapped forward to grab anything his fingers could brush.

“Stop-” Josh’s voice cut through the air, high and panicked. “Stop man!” In Chris’s hand was one end of the scarf. “I am serious!” The scarred side of Josh’s mouth came to light. Anger mixed in one single word, “ _Stop!_ ”

In seconds, Chris was on his feet, holding the scarf out. It left his hand in nanoseconds.

Wide-eyed, Josh wrapped the scarf back up around him. He looked pale as he kept looking back and forth. “Not cool, man,” Josh’s voice shook. “What… what if…”

Brows falling together, Chris watched his friend with sad eyes. Inwardly, he groaned, _I so messed up…_ There were so many mistakes that Chris has made. So many things he wished he could fix. He sighed and closed his eyes. Being with Josh wasn’t as easy as before. Maybe Chris was just trying too hard, or… it could be his guilt. Or maybe both Josh and Chris were blind and walking on tightrope. They were searching for the other in darkness, unable to realize they were on different ropes. Slowly, he opened his eyes stepped towards Josh. Time to jump ropes. It was his turn to grab Josh’s swing and pull it towards him. “Josh,” Chris searched his widened eyes. “I… I am sorry.”

The fear slowly eased out of Josh’s eyes and he gave Chris that kicked-puppy look of his. Or should Chris say “sad deer”?

“It’s,” Josh’s voice cracked, “no big deal… man.”

“No, I…” With a weak laugh, Chris looked down at his feet. “I… sorta jumped topics here. I…” Maybe he shouldn’t bring this up, but really, this is what Chris has had planned all day. He wanted to find the right moment to say it, but… there really would be no perfect moment. Swallowing, Chris ventured a glance into those deer-like eyes. “I kind of wanted you to know that… I… uh,” why was this so much harder to say than he expected? “I went to go get you,” his eyes watered, and he dropped Josh’s gaze. “But…” a weak laugh shook him, the kind of laugh people give to say _“Oh, um, yeah, not crying here. Just, you know… weird sweat, right?”_

Josh was dead silent.

 _Thanks for the help, bro._ With a watery breath, Chris choked out, “You weren’t there. I… I wouldn’t… I _didn’t_ want to leave you like that. I just, I want you to know that, and-”

Arms grasped his waist with a tight hold.

With a shaky gasp, Chris said, “I just… if I got there in time, if….” His eyes fell to the top of Josh’s head, who was shaking his head. Very slowly, Chris pushed forward so that Josh’s swing pulled him _into_ Chris, not away.

A very quiet, “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” shakily shimmied into the air.

Struggling with a watery smile, Chris wrapped Josh up in his arms and pressed his nose into the top of his head. _I didn’t abandon you,_ Chris wanted Josh to know that. But really, he kinda did. And the guilt ate him alive. With a small breath, Chris pulled away to apologize again, but-

“ _Ow!_ God, what the-” Josh squeaked.

“Crap! Oh, God! I think my glasses-” standing up straight, Chris frowned.

“Jesus! That _hurt!_ Do I have a bald spot? God, Chris.”

Laughing, Chris leaned towards Josh again, “Oh, here, let me look.”

Eyes crinkling, Josh shoved him and barked, “Get away, jerk!” The movement pushed Josh away from Chris for a moment.

Quiet laughs left Josh, just loud enough for Chris to hear. Smiling widely, Chris pulled off his glasses. The swing let Josh rest against Chris once more. Squinting at his glasses, Chris tried to discern what were hairs and what was just blur.

“Here, man, let _me_ take _my_ hair out of _your_ glasses.”

The glasses were out of Chris’ hands. With a light smile, he watched Josh pick at the hairs. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s okay, alright?”

At that moment, Chris wondered exactly what Josh was saying was “okay”. Because, if it was about the potential bald spot? Then yeah, that’s totally okay. But if it was about Chris’s apology from earlier? Then no. It definitely wasn’t “ _okay”._

There were so many reasons why it wasn’t _“okay”._

In a pleased and still muffled voice, Josh said, “Here you go, man. Josh hair-free.” The world became clearer when Josh gently placed Chris’s glasses back on. There was a smile in the light of Josh’s eyes as he looked up at Chris.

With a serious expression, Chris took Josh’s warm face in his hands. Gently, he turned Josh’s face to peer at the scars outside of the scarf. It was almost amazing how fast Josh became rigid. In a soft voice, Chris said, “You know. I like your face like this. It’s a lot better than before, eh?”

At first, Josh stared up at him. He wasn’t sure how to react.

So, Chris gave him a hint and he smiled.

Rolling his eyes, Josh half-heartedly kicked him and pulled away. “Yeah? I think I’d like your face better if you’d stop being an ass.”

Laughing lightly, Chris tried to warm his hands by rubbing them together. Someday, Josh might believe him. Silence threatened to fall. Taking in a breath, Chris jammed his hands in his pockets. “I want ice cream so bad right now. I have no idea why.”

Humor lit Josh’s eyes again, and he said, “Every place is closed, man. They close at ten or something.”

With a groan, Chris let his head fall back. “Life is so disappointing.”

“Sucks to suck,” Josh said, his voice thick with amusement.

“Well,” looking back at Josh, Chris fought a smile as he said, “Not if you do it right.”

A burst of laughter left Josh and he said, “ _God_ , Chris!” One of his hands grabbed Chris’ side for support as he practically giggled.

Laughing, Chris ducked his head. He couldn’t believe that he _ever_ got used to Josh’s laugh. Maybe it was different now, because Josh didn’t have much reason to laugh anymore, and it felt _so good_ to give him a reason. His laugh was glorious, and beautiful. Was there a chance, ever, that Chris would get used to it again?

At this point, Chris didn’t think he could.

 


End file.
